


Love Among the Ruins

by Jennifer-Oksana (JenniferOksana)



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Caprica Resistance, Cylons, F/F, F/M, Femslash, First Time, Het, New Caprica, Plot, Scheming, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 02:43:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6220468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenniferOksana/pseuds/Jennifer-Oksana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One week on New Caprica. People fall in love, people fight back, people find out horrible secrets, people lose faith, and people find hope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Among the Ruins

"Have you ever wondered what Roslin might actually say if she weren't so composed?" Tyrol asked Tigh after another frustrating meeting with the former president. "I mean, the woman never says anything that doesn't sound like she's run it through the internal filter. She's great with the inspirational speeches, but I feel like I don't know her enough to trust her or not."

"She's a strange one," Tigh said. "She always was. I don't like her, but I wouldn't bet against her. Ever."

"I think I might like her," Tyrol said. "She's got a sense of humor underneath it all. But I don't know if it's real or not."

"It probably is," Tigh said. "Nasty sense of humor, I think, but real. Actually, the one thing I'm pretty sure is real is the way she'll play the game."

Tyrol's brow furrowed slightly. "Excuse me, sir?"

"Roslin plays to win," Tigh said. "The old man's won one against her, and we're all frakked because of it. I'm an expert on scary women -- Ellen's a one-woman education -- but Roslin's different. She doesn't want the things game-playing women usually wants, and she's entirely capable of killing to get the things she does want."

"You don't believe she killed Athena's baby, do you?" Tyrol asked.

"Of course I do," Tigh said with a callous shrug. "I think she probably had herself a good prayer, cried some real tears, and did her duty for humanity. And she'd do the same if it was either of us."

Tyrol didn't have much to say to that, folding his arms and nodding. "I'd still like to talk to a Roslin who was being honest. No filter," he said.

"You figure out how you do that, you let me know," Tigh said with a death's-head chuckle. "It'd make me feel a lot better, knowing what that woman's really after."

* * *

In their own tent, Maya and Isis were playing a silly game. Maya was singing songs to the toddler and Isis was running back and forth, managing a syllable or two.

Their constant houseguest Laura was making some kind of rice-thickened stew in the makeshift kitchen, singing counterpoint to Maya. Maya adjusted her song, and Isis, tired of running and playing with her toy, plopped down into Maya's lap and listened to her mama and her Laura sing.

"Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily," Laura sang to Maya's "life is but a dream," in an extended round, the pair tossing the two lyrics back and forth, and then Laura doing the whole song again while Maya sang "merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily" over and over.

Then, to both women's delighted surprise, Isis piped in with "mewwee, mewwee, mewwee, mewwee" in decent approximation of the melody, so Maya adjusted her tone and Laura continued another round until Isis clapped her hands and stopped.

"We may be raising a musician here," Maya said, hugging Isis cheerfully while Laura sighed and added the slightly unpleasant onions and carrots to her soup-stew.

"That's possible," Laura agreed. "Gods, what I wouldn't give for fresh garlic and real vegetables."

"Oh, I think you'd give...a tooth or two?" Maya suggested with an impish grin. "Maybe you'd trade Tory for the vegetables."

"Why don't you like Tory?" Laura asked as Isis, bored of being cuddled, got up and ran over to Laura, grabbing her leg. "Laura's cooking hot things, sweetie."

"Up!" Isis said.

"Manners," Laura said mildly. "What do we say?"

"Uppeeze," Isis said. "Uppeeze?"

"Oh, all _right_ ," Laura said with a smile that completely obliterated the faux-exasperated tone, scooping the toddler up and pointing at the stew. "Look, dinner."

"Yummy?" Isis asked.

"It's trying to be," Laura said with a stoic smile. "But back to Mommy...what is wrong with Tory? You're both extremely snide about each other."

"She acts like I'm wasting your time," Maya said. "Or that I'm going to get you in trouble. Basically, she thinks I'm in the way, and I know it's because she's jealous."

"Jealous?" Laura asked, stirring the stew with Isis's 'help.'

"You know that she's in love with you, right?" Maya asked. "Worse than me, and I'm in love with you like crazy. She doesn't like that you spend so much time here, and she thinks we're, um..."

Laura was so surprised that she rather abruptly set Isis down and stared at Maya, hands on hips, stew forgotten.

"She thinks we're, um, what?" she asked.

"Frakking," Maya said with a resigned sigh. "Also, she's not the only one. Ellen Tigh asked, but I think that was Ellen Tigh being a bitch and hoping that not only were you out of power, you were a big girlfrakker anyway. But um, Lee Adama's wife asked. Lee just asked if you were happy down here. Nora, Duck's girlfriend -- gods rest her, she was wondering, too."

"Frakking," Laura said, a smile playing about on her face. "Well, that's the last thing I expected. Why do people think I'm frakking you and not, oh, Admiral Adama? Or Major Adama? Or Zarek, or Tory, for that matter?"

"Because you're...different...when you're with them," Maya said. "I think it's because you like kids and people who understand about that, but they don't get it, so it has to be sex. Also because I'm, um, not really interested in men."

Laura chuckled. "I see," she said. "I suppose that's something I never asked you. Just assumed because of the baby."

It was Maya's turn to grin. "I know. The rather small contingent of girlfrakkers in the fleet are all SOOOOOO jealous. The only other woman in the fleet who's considered more frakkable than you, Madam Ex-President, is Starbuck, because Starbuck's got the butch thing going. Kat keeps saying they were playing around in the showers, but Kat talks a lot."

Apparently, Laura was taken aback by that, because while she went back to the stew, ostensibly to keep it from burning, her mouth was open.

"The second most frakkable woman in the fleet," she finally said, turning the burner off. "I don't know whether to be stunned, insulted, or pleased."

Maya burst into laughter, and opened her arms for Isis. "Be pleased, Laura, really," she said. "I wouldn't have even told you, but you had to go and ask about Tory and...well, you know. I'm honest with you. I can't help it."

"And you're in love with me," Laura said gently, pulling out the bowls.

"A little, yeah," Maya said, squirming and blushing. "I can't _help_ it, Laura. You're smart and you're hot and you gave me Isis and you ooze charisma. I mean, I understand why all the boys want to chase you around. I think you'd be not only good in bed, but fun. Just...fun. And good. And then you turn on the scary smart power thing and I get all...well, um, it's hot."

"I see," Laura said, handing Maya a bowl and two spoons. Isis didn't eat from her own bowl anyway, and there were only so many resources to go around, including soap. "Gods, I sound so much more interesting when other people are describing me."

"You are interesting," Maya said.

"Yes. A retired politician who teaches small children and sulks about the incompetence of her successor," Laura said with a shrug, sitting down next to Maya on the one chair wit her own bowl of rice stew. "And who could apparently have her pick of lovers, if only she had any sense."

Maya didn't say anything; instead, Isis tried to grab her spoon fitfully and demanded the attention.

* * *

Cally sometimes liked to go out, just after she'd put the baby down for the night, and watch people move around. It was a little after curfew, but the bolder people still hurried home pushed the boundaries. Still played ball games. It was good to watch, and Cally was little and quiet. No one ever noticed her.

That particular evening, it turned out to be a very good thing.

Maya, who everyone just called "the other teacher," had a tent not far from Galen and Jane's own home. Maya was a sweetie and no mistake. Isis was adorable, very smart, a total handful, and Cally hoped her son was a little like the little girl someday, sassy and curious about everything.

But Maya was quiet. She taught, she took care of her daughter, rinse and repeat. Cally thought Maya and Jammer might work out someday, but that was something Cally kept to herself in case she jinxed it.

And so it surprised the hell out of Cally, seeing someone leave Maya's tent. It took her a second to realize it was Roslin, so that was...okay. Normal, even, though Roslin was usually scrupulous about obeying laws.

Instead, Maya and Roslin were hovering at the entrance to the tent, standing close. Too close. Cally watched the way Maya's fingers rested on the other woman's wrist, the strange way Roslin had her head tilted.

Something was going on; they would move closer, then further back, then closer.

Finally, Roslin put her arms around Maya and hugged her hard. Cally stayed silent and still, hoping they couldn't see her. Galen had been talking about how he wanted to like Roslin more, but he couldn't figure her out.

Cally was willing to help the cause.

And then Maya put her hand on Roslin's face, leaned over, and kissed her on the mouth.

Well, that left Jammer girlfriend-free, yet again.

Laura pulled away, looking at Maya with an odd posture. Maya was probably smiling, Cally thought. They were talking to each other, again in the odd dance of intimate-distant, distant-intimate, and then Maya just put her hand on Roslin's hip and smiled, leaning back and looking inviting. The light from her tent outlined her and she looked gorgeous and perfect and Cally's breath had caught in her throat.

Roslin had folded her arms around herself; she was going to go, Cally thought. Except that she didn't. Instead she tilted her head and rested her head on Maya's shoulder as Maya's skinny arm wormed its way around Roslin's waist.

It was an oddly pretty and strangely sexy moment. Roslin looked tired, but she looked a happy kind of tired. And Maya looked entirely content to just hold the woman who was quietly leaning on her.

This time, though, Roslin looked up, tilted Maya's chin, and kissed her softly. Maya's hand twisted into Roslin's hair, the kiss getting tangled.

And then Maya pulled Roslin back into her tent.

Cally giggled. At least someone was going to have a good night on this godsforsaken craphole tonight.

And at the first noisy moan, Cally upgraded that good to "unfrakkingbelievable."

Jammer was going to be SO sad about this later on, if and when Cally ever decided to tell him.

* * *

"Mama," Isis said the next morning, seemingly pleased to have two warm bodies to cuddle between. "Laura."

"Mmm...sleeping," Maya said, Isis wiggling in and giggling.

"OK. Sleepy sleep," Isis agreed, kicking Laura in the thigh before finding her preferred spot on the bed and grinning brightly, eyes closed.

Somewhere in the distance, a baby started crying. Laura shifted, petting Isis's toddler arm with her eyes closed and a dreamy smile on her face. Maya was watching, eyes-half opened and her head propped on her elbow.

Isis opened one eye and smiled at her mother. "Laura sleeping?" she whispered loudly.

"Laura's sleeping," Maya said.

"Isis sleep," Isis said.

"Okay, Isis sleep, too," Maya whispered.

"Sleepy sleep," Isis said, screwing her eyes shut and snuggling back into Laura, who folded the child into her arms and smiled again.

Maya chuckled and rolled out of bed, wandering over to the one burner and fixing the kettle to heat up water for the laughable dried tea. Neither Laura nor Isis seemed to want to get up, so when the water was warm, Maya put the kettle on the warming plate and wandered outside her tent with her cup in her robe and slip-on shoes.

Cally was outside nursing the baby. She held up a hand. Maya, who liked Cally in the vague way she liked everyone, wandered over to Cally and the free stool.

"Hey," Cally said. "Where's Isis? With Laura?"

"They decided to sleep in," Maya said, sipping her tea. Then she realized what she'd just said. "Oh, crud. I walked into that."

"I saw last night anyway, so I was setting you up," Cally admitted, smiling her cute pixie smile. "I can't decide whether to be happy for you or sad because I'm gonna have to find Jammer ANOTHER girlfriend. He has no idea how many he's gone through."

Maya chuckled as the baby made a grunting, satisfied noise. "That's right, kiddo," she told him. "Tell mommy that Miss Maya is too happy to feel much besides...happy."

"So it's a new thing, huh?" Cally asked.

"Yes," Maya said. "And very different from what I expected when I kissed her. I thought she was going to be sweet and say that she was flattered but didn't really kiss girls."

"And instead you have someone sleeping in with the baby while you glow with the glow of a well-frakked woman," Cally said with another impish pixie smirk.

"I take the forty-second," Maya said with a helpless chuckle. "I thought we were going to wake up the baby. And the neighborhood."

Cally paused, blushing a little. "Galen thought it was Ellen Tigh," she said. "Or maybe some kind of malfunctioning machinery. You've got a voice on you, woman."

"Um," Maya said. "It wasn't, um...me."

Cally started and stared, jostling the baby off her breast a little. He grunted unhappily, fussing slightly, and Cally adjusted him until he started slurping again.

"Jeez," Cally finally said. "Good for you. Good for her."

"Thanks," Maya said. "So...you're not going to tell everyone, are you?"

"Just Galen, if that's okay," Cally said.

"Good. I don't even know what's gonna happen next," Maya admitted. "She might tell me that it was all the heat of the moment and never, ever, ever again."

"You don't think so, do you?" Cally asked.

"No, not really," Maya said with a naughty grin and a chuckle. "That was a happy woman. Who I intend to inflict endless happiness upon until she surrenders and moves in with me and Isis."

"Really?" Cally asked.

"I love her," Maya said simply, finishing her tea and looking back at her occupied tent dreamily. "I think I make her happy. I think in a world like this, we need all the happiness and love we can get."

* * *

"I know something you don't know, I know something youuuuu don't know," Cally teased Galen, handing him the baby and picking up her mug of tea. "Unless you were eavesdropping, you big spy."

"You were talking to someone, but I don't eavesdrop," Galen said. "Who were you talking to, anyway? It's too early for most people."

"Maya," Cally said, her grin downright wicked. "You know, the other schoolteacher."

"Oh, yeah, the one you think Jammer would like," Galen said. "Did you fix them up at last?"

"Not exactly," Cally said, cackling. "You told me you wanted to know what President Roslin's like when she's not, um, filtered, right? Well, um. I think I have a bit of a clue."

She sat down on the bed and bounced. Actually bounced. Galen looked at his wife and raised an eyebrow.

"What is it, Cally Jane?"

"I know who was hollering her head off last night," Cally said.

"Maya?" Galen guessed.

"President Roslin," Cally said. "Maya helped."

Tyrol snorted. "You're telling stories."

"Nope. I saw, and Maya said anyway," Cally said. "Maya's in love with her. In crazy, stupid love, and I know crazy stupid love. I used to be in crazy stupid love with you, before I got smart."

Galen grinned and bounced their son. "So Maya's in crazy stupid love with Roslin. And Roslin?"

"I don't know. But she did sleep with Maya last night. Loudly," Cally said. "And she was apparently sleeping next to Isis, all domestic and cozy."

Galen laughed. "Well, that's something I didn't ever expect to hear," he said. "So you were spying on them and you saw, little spy girl?"

"I was taking outside time, and saw," Cally said primly. "And then Maya told me. I think she's so happy she doesn't know what to do. Which is neat."

"It is neat," Tyrol said. "I have a meeting with Roslin today. I'll have to see if you and Maya are right about the happiness factor."

* * *

They were so right. They were so right about Roslin's elevated mood that it was unreal. Completely unreal -- so unreal that Tigh noticed.

"What in the seven hells are you so cheerful about, woman?" he asked Roslin, who was smiling for no reason and had actually broken off humming at one point. "I thought you were our incurable pessimist."

"Even I can take a vacation from cold-eyed reality, Colonel," she said with a fond shrug. "Chief Tyrol, is there something funny?"

He'd apparently been smiling, thinking of how much Cally would enjoying telling him she told him so about Maya and Roslin's little love affair. Tyrol straightened and tried to stop.

"Just the banter," he said.

"Oh, I'm sure," she said with another grin. "You understand why the school is entirely off-limits. After the temple incident, we need one safe place in the community. If a single child dies for your resistance, Colonel, I will hold you personally responsible."

Tigh nodded. "Do you have any better ideas? The toasters aren't giving us many options."

The usual grim mood quickly reasserted itself, but at the end of the meeting, Tyrol caught Roslin before she hurried back to the school and so on.

"Sorry for that," he said. "You just were so...funny there, for a second."

"I'm funny all the time," Roslin said, deadpan. "Most people miss that."

"If I didn't know better, I'd say not only are you funny, you're in love," Tyrol teased.

"Maybe I'm both," Roslin replied, grinning outrageously. "Who knows?"

"The men of New Caprica will be so sad to hear that," Tyrol said.

"Mmm, maybe Admiral Adama should have occasionally tried before the Cylons found us," Roslin answered. "Then he wouldn't come home disappointed."

"Yes, ma'am," Tyrol said.

"Maya told me she told your wife," Roslin said. "I know you know, Chief."

"Oh," Tyrol said. "Um. Sorry. I was trying to be discreet."

"It's fine," Roslin answered. "It's more than fine. I haven't been this fine for years. Since...gods, since maybe ten or fifteen years."

"Well, ma'am, I sincerely wish you all the happiness in the world," Tyrol said, meaning it. "You've done so much for all of us, you deserve your own happiness."

The facade slipped; Laura Roslin, the gods' maternal, eternally cool avenger, turned beet red and looked away, suddenly shy.

"Thank you, Chief," she said softly.

* * *

Isis was probably the happiest of three very happy people about the turn of events. The prospect of her mama AND her Laura to boss around and snuggle with made an already friendly child absolutely bouncy, and she actually made up to a Cylon about two days into the new state of affairs with, "Mama! Laura! See?"

It could have been bad, but for once their luck held. Isis was trying to make up to a D'Anna model, and the D'Anna model wasn't baby-crazy.

"That's nice, kid," D'Anna said.

Isis ran back through the mud to Maya, who scooped her up and glared at D'Anna. D'Anna shifted her gaze to Laura, who went expressionless.

Maya couldn't stop shivering, even after D'Anna and her two Centurions passed by.

"Gods, that's just...they're so scary," she whispered to Laura.

"They're bullies," Laura said. "Sad, confused, genocidal bullies who don't have any idea what they want. If they weren't so dangerous, I might pity them."

Still, even with an occupation, Laura's increasingly dangerous activities, and Cylon crackdowns, Maya found herself unable to feel as afraid as she should be.

She was in love. Madly in love. In love with her woman, in love with her daughter, in love with the little family they were quickly becoming after a year that had really been a kind of courtship.

Besides, Tory was INTENSELY jealous. That alone made Maya as happy as a cat.

"I want to make love to you for hours," Maya whispered into Laura's ear during a slow moment at the school. "One day I'm going to lock you up and do it."

"Maya," Laura whisper-chided.

"Cally says she'll watch Isis for me," Maya answered, unabashed.

"Really?" was Laura's immediate reply, followed by a sheepish smile. "Later, Maya. Let's talk about this later. PENCILS DOWN."

It was good to be in love.

* * *

When the Cylons finally came to arrest Roslin, she wasn't in her own modest tent.

In fact, Roslin's arrest was one of the more spectacular arrests of the resistance. Tigh's first arrest, for example, had been really boring; he'd been busted for drunk and disorderly and slapped around re: the resistance. His fight with Ellen on the way home had been more entertaining than the actual arrest.

Cally watched this arrest from her "porch" with her son in one arm and Isis in the other. She'd agreed to watch Isis for Maya, so that Maya could have a little free time with Roslin without having to put Isis down for a nap or so on.

At the time, it had seemed really romantic.

Then two Centurions, a D'Anna, and a Six came down the path, looking grouchy and grim. Most of the neighborhood women were cooking, hanging up laundry, or watching small children. There was an audience and the Cylons weren't sure if they wanted it or not.

"Where is Maya Shahi's residence?" Six asked one of the women. She shrugged. "We're looking for the rebel and traitor Roslin. Where is she?"

"Planning lessons for little children, you toaster bitch!" someone yelled.

"Yeah, frak off," someone else said.

"Laura Roslin!" D'Anna bellowed, as if she hadn't heard. "Laura Roslin, you're under arrest."

"Gods, they're really stupid," Galen said, peering out from the tent behind Cally. "A public arrest of Roslin? That's going to upset the general population like crazy. Where is Roslin, anyway?"

"Getting frakked sideways by her girlfriend," Cally said. "Why do you think I have two babies today, Galen?"

"Ohhhh, glorious frak," Galen said, whistling. "I don't want her arrested, Cally Jane, but this promises to be an event."

"Laura Roslin, you are under arrest," D'Anna repeated, finally piecing together which tent was Maya's from the lack of people peeking out from it. "If you continue to resist..."

The tent flap opened slightly. The entire neighborhood craned their necks for a look, and D'Anna, clearly furious with the delay, stalked up to the flap and yanked it open.

Then jumped back.

"Let me get dressed," said Laura Roslin, cool as a cucumber, and wearing Maya's half-buttoned shirt, a pair of underwear -- and not a blessed stitch else. Her hair attested to her clearly-frakking state, and everyone was gaping. "Thank you."

Dead silence.

Then a loud holler of approval. Especially as Roslin continued to pull on items of clothing with the open tent flap gaping. The Cylons were all open-mouthed and couldn't have looked stupider.

"When I grow up, I want to be a political genius," Tyrol mused as Roslin put on the nearest pair of shoes and stepped out of the tent, closing the door and tying it behind her. Despite the sweaty skin, wrecked hair, and hodgepodge of clothing, it was clear Roslin was in control, and her pathetic state was paradoxically enhancing the effect.

And then Isis started screaming. Cally realized, too late, what they'd let the poor child witness.

"Laura! Laura! Laura!" the little girl screamed as the Centurion handcuffed the former president, who was absolutely not resisting. "No!"

Isis was struggling against Cally hard, trying to get loose and to Laura. Hard enough that Galen took her, which only started Isis screaming louder.

"Laura no! Laura no!" she shrieked.

"Shut that brat up," D'Anna growled at Cally.

"Maybe you shouldn't take her mother off to jail," Cally said, glaring.

"Her mother," and the Six looked really pissed, "Is inside that tent, too busy indulging in sinful pleasures to care for her own child. Not only are we removing a traitor from your midst, we're also protecting that child from this degenerate."

"Lauuuuuuuuurrrrrrraaaaaaa," Isis wailed. "Don't go."

"Yeah, that's some pretty great protection," Cally said quietly.

"Please," Roslin said, reasserting control of the situation, though the look on her face when she looked at Isis was pure anguish. "I'm not resisting. I don't want any violence."

Isis' broken-hearted wails as Roslin was led away echoed through the neighborhood. Galen, looking sad, tried to comfort the little girl, but she would have none of it. Maya, who emerged not long after, took the little girl, bouncing her, but Isis kept wailing.

"Laura," she said.

"I know, baby," Maya said, looking as broken as her daughter. "I know."

* * *

"Are you brain-damaged?" Gaius Baltar asked his Six. "You dragged a half-naked woman from her home and family while her adorable foster child screamed after her? Do you want to win this war or not?"

"Roslin is a ringleader of the resistance. She's a rallying point. She needed to be detained," Six replied curtly, looking out at the crowd of eight thousand protesters with an ineffable expression. "For God's sake, Gaius, the woman's a girlfrakker. How anyone who revered her as a prophet could accept that is beyond us."

"Oh, yes. Of _course_ now that she's been found cohabiting with a kind, beautiful young woman who she obviously adores and with whom she is raising a child, the masses will turn against her," Baltar said, dripping sarcasm and venom. "Perhaps consider that this woman turned blatant military subversion into a holy cause...to the military. The screaming brat obliterated any leverage you had using mere homosexuality against her."

Six's eyes narrowed and she glared down at Baltar, arms folding in a gesture not unlike Roslin's.

"Watch it, Gaius," she snapped.

"Use your common sense, darling," Baltar retorted. "You killed ten civilians at a temple and didn't get this reaction. And now you're dealing with a political genius who gets imprisoned more often than a common criminal. Jail is hardly an impediment to Roslin. She's thinking three steps ahead; you'll need to think four."

"Next time, share these insights with us BEFORE we execute a plan, Gaius," Six snarled. "Or perhaps I'll start wondering if your loyalties lie with us...or with the Roslin woman."

Baltar snorted. "Of course, darling. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to go look in on the prisoner," he said, stalking away.

Laura Roslin was lying on her pallet quietly. She was accepting imprisonment very passively, which worried Baltar. He remembered what had happened with Adama, and Roslin hadn't actually hated Adama.

"I want to see my family," Laura said, looking at the ceiling.

"You don't have any family," Baltar replied.

"I would like to see my lover and our daughter," Laura said flatly. "Or do I get no visitation rights, along with no charges, no legal arrest, no trial, et cetera?"

"Speaking of your lover, I didn't realize you liked women," Baltar said. "That's quite the secret you've been keeping, Miss Roslin."

"Recent turn of events," Roslin replied. "I would like to see my family."

"Recent turn of events?" Baltar asked, raising an eyebrow. "Simply couldn't resist anyone declaring their undying love and throwing herself at you?"

"I would like to see my family. I would like to see my lawyer," Roslin repeated. "I will not answer any questions until I see a lawyer and my family."

Baltar glared down at her. "I'll remember this," he said.

"Good. Remember that I want to see my family and that I want to see my lawyer," Roslin answered icily as Baltar stalked away.

It wasn't until Baltar saw the two or three nervous human assistants looking at him and then at Roslin that he understood. She hadn't been speaking to him at all; she knew his constraints. It was a way to trap him. Show that the evil rebel leader simply wanted her family and her lawyer, and the big mean tyrant Gaius Baltar wouldn't even grant that. Get word out to the people how many of her rights were being trampled on. Increase popular support.

"Frakking bitch," he muttered, returning to Six. "Always three steps ahead. Always."

* * *

"I would have taken pictures," Ellen Tigh told her lover -- the Cylon formerly known as Brother Cavil -- the next day, stretching out languidly. "I hate that frakking woman. It would have made my day to watch her get caught, mother-naked, with a _woman_ half her age."

Cavil snorted. "It was an enormous mistake," he said. "We've had to provide legal counsel -- one of the Simons -- and the other woman and the child are scheduled to visit today."

"Well, that's your own fault. You're letting her play holy martyr," Ellen said, twisting. "Irritate her. Scare her. Get that temper of hers riled up and she'll frak up."

"We let Baltar have access," Cavil said. "He irritates us, God knows, so I can't imagine what daily visits from him do to her mood."

"After the election, she would have learned to calm down about Baltar," Ellen said with a snort. "She let herself get annoyed at the weasel and the weasel took her for all she was worth."

"What about you? We intended to escort her family, and she's demanded if that's the case, a Colonial gets to accompany them," Cavil said.

Ellen smiled wickedly. "Yes, that's thinking," she said. "That's even very good thinking. But I don't think we're here to strategize..."

Cavil smiled. Ellen, even though she was human, had a way of getting right to the point, no matter how rude, crude, or degenerate the point. He liked it in her; for all her other flaws, Ellen Tigh was a forthright schemer.

Laura Roslin, on the other hand, was so devious that truth, lies, delusion, and belief wove themselves around her in a way that made it damn near impossible to know if she believed her own lies or not.

* * *

Ellen Tigh was the human witness for the Cylons. Laura hadn't expected that; nor had she expected that the Valerii model would accompany Simon, her half-useful lawyer, to the meeting with Isis and Maya.

Four days of imprisonment. There had been two riots, and two human deaths. There had been eight Cylon deaths, an explosion during one of the riots. Laura was still wearing the sweat-and-sex-stained outfit she'd been arrested in, though she'd been allowed to shower.

"You look ridiculous," Ellen greeted her.

"I wasn't given a lot of time to get dressed, Ellen," Laura replied. "How are you? Still entertaining Brother Cavil?"

Ellen had jumped at that; it was worth letting Ellen know Laura still had her informants -- even now -- to watch the sullen, vicious expression on her face. She had fetched Sharon and Simon at that point, to play legal counsel and discreetly interrogate Laura.

"You understand that treason will be punished by death," Simon said. "And that among the Cylons, your actions are considered particularly...foul."

"Which actions are those?" Laura asked. "What have I been charged with? When will my trial happen? What defense do you think will be most effective if my jury is Cylon? Will my jury be Cylon, Colonial, or mixed? Who will preside as judge?"

"You're a blaspheming, baby-killing, airlock-happy rebel," Sharon snarled before Simon could stop her. "We should have just shot you in the head."

"Ah, so you're charging me with the murder of the hybrid child?" Laura inquired. "In that case, you'll need to call Cottle as a witness, and perhaps Galen Tyrol, as well as Tory Foster and Gaius Baltar. They will all attest to the fact that not only did I not murder the child, I was being slandered by these accusations before its unfortunate death. That in fact, Baltar might have begun these rumors as a political tactic and they have no basis in reality."

Lie, lie, lie. Laura was impressed with how many she had to tell to the Cylons. All because of the child that was being walked into the jail, clearly impatient to see her.

And for once, she was glad of every lie that was coming out of her mouth.

"Down," Isis said.

"Manners," Maya replied, coming into view. Despite the joke, she looked like hell. Laura's stomach lurched, and the guilt welled up. How could she have done this to a young woman who'd never done anything worse than love and trust the wrong people?

The wrong person. The wrong woman. Maya's only sin was to trust Laura, really.

"Please down," Isis said, in slurred baby speech. The Sharon looked at the child and longing was obvious in her every feature; Laura, guilt-torn and worried, felt herself breathe in. Carefully.

"Be nice to your mommy, Isis," Laura said.

Isis almost threw herself out of Maya's arms to scurry over to Laura and demand "uppeeze, uppeeze" over and over, until Laura did so, almost absently. The Sharon was glaring daggers, Ellen Tigh was rolling her eyes, and Maya looked like she hadn't slept at all.

"Do I get any privacy with them?" Laura asked.

"Let me see -- no," the Simon said. "You're a security risk, which is why we were worried about letting a small child and a legal stranger into your presence. They will have to be closely monitored in case..."

"In case I'm running the resistance from my jail cell," Laura said with a laugh. Sometimes everyone overthought her devious plans. Laura had wanted to see Maya and Isis...because she wanted to see Maya and the baby. "Right."

"The children miss you," Maya said. "They drew pictures for you, but they're being scrutinized in case they're communicating intelligence. Cora Andorel hasn't come in for two days. I think she's working."

Cora Andorel was thirteen years old and looked sixteen. She had been coming home with a group of three other children and their chaperon -- the mother of one of the other children -- from an academic competition when the Cylons attacked. Laura closed her eyes. Work. There weren't a great many options of "work" for a thirteen year-old girl who looked the way Cora did.

"You know where?" Laura asked.

"I have a guess," Maya said grimly.

"Then you go find her and you tell her I said that if she's still 'working' when I get back, I will find her and blister her butt," Laura said, opening her eyes. The Cylons were practically gog-eyed, and Ellen was pouting. "Personally. In front of all her friends."

Maya managed a wan smile. "I promise," she said.

"Gods, you look like you've been dead for three days," Laura finally said, unable to pretend away her anxiety any longer. "Isis, has mommy been sleeping?"

"Mommy sleep-sleep?" Isis asked, opening her eyes. She, in fact, had almost been asleep herself, clinging to Laura as Laura rocked her slightly.

"Yes, does mommy sleep-sleep?" Laura asked.

"Mommy sleepy," Isis said. "Mommy sad."

"Oh," Laura said. "Mommy cry?"

Isis nodded, sticking her thumb in her mouth. "Laura cry?"

Laura didn't answer that, just petted the toddler while looking at Maya, who was red-nosed and embarrassed. Then she shot an icy look at the Cylons that promised revenge, one that Ellen Tigh noticed.

"I'm trying," Maya said softly. "It's hard, Laura."

"I know," said Laura. "Are people giving you a hard time about...about you and me?"

"No, not really," Maya said. "One or two of the parents were shocked, shocked, shocked, but the only person who tried to tell me I was leading you down the wrong path got Cally in his face. She's a fierce little thing, isn't she?"

"But someone did try," Laura said.

"Of course someone tried," Maya said. "I've frakked girls before, even if you haven't. It's not like I wasn't expecting it."

"I'm so sorry, Maya," Laura said, trying to muster up something except regret...regret and loneliness as painful as a real wound. "I never wanted you hurt."

Maya, who was crying, stood up. "I love you. It's worth the hurting," she said. "I don't care what stupid people say. I just want you to come home."

"Mommy crying," Isis said drowsily.

Simon, clearly embarrassed, made a big show of checking his watch. "I think time's up," he said. "Why don't you take your child, Miss Shahi, and we'll tell you if it's possible to visit again."

Maya looked at Laura, who actually managed to smile at that. "We should wait until Isis is asleep," Laura said.

"Time is up," Sharon snapped. She marched over to Isis and picked her up.

Isis bit her on the arm. "NO!" she shrieked as the Sharon gaped at her, pulling away and getting out of everyone's grips. "No! Laura no!"

Laura sighed. "And yet nobody listens to me," she said, turning to Maya. "Sweetheart, help me wrangle our wild animal, please?"

* * *

"The kid BIT the chrome-job?" Tigh asked his wife incredulously. "They oughta give her a gods-damn medal."

"Saul," Ellen said. "They almost arrested the kid. Also, could you be a little less obviously partisan?"

"What, you think if I call the little bastard a bastard, the toasters might give you more presents?" Saul asked. "Cavil's gotta be wondering how we share a house and yet I don't give myself away."

"I tell him I don't care, and that mostly you drink and sob about Bill before pawing me half-heartedly and going to sleep," Ellen replied. "Roslin's girlfriend is going to frak us all if we're not careful. She's in love with our glorious figurehead, and surprise surprise, I think Madam Ex-President loves the little twit, too."

Tigh grunted. "Huh. So she's a girlfrakker after all?" he asked.

"No. Not exactly. In love and happy enough to make an exception," Ellen said. "Gods, I wish it weren't like this. There are so many fun things you can do to a goody-goody in love. Instead I just feel sorry for the bitch."

Snorting, Tigh looked at his wife with surprise. "I'm never gonna understand women," he said.

"Nope," Ellen agreed. "It was pretty funny, though. The twit was all weepy and idealistic -- 'I love you! I'm glad that it hurts because I looooooove youuuuuu, Laura.' And you know Roslin. She's so cold she makes Bill look like a big weepy girl, and she's just standing there, wishing she could DROP DEAD on the frakking spot."

Tigh chortled. "Did she do the frak-off-and-die glare?" he asked.

"Not to the twit," Ellen said. "It was all that look she used to give Lee Adama when she was Very Disappointed in him. Hmm. I bet she frakked him."

"Ellen," Tigh said. "That's disgusting."

"Oh, you know it's possible," Ellen said, snickering. "I know she did. It makes sense -- Laura Roslin likes hers young, pretty, and devoted. Not too bright, though. That might make them worry that they're frakking an evil mastermind when she just wants her...boots...licked."

"Ellen!" Tigh said, laughing. "Damn it. I'm never going to be able to keep a straight face the next time I see that woman now, thinking of devoted young things and licking."

Cackling, Ellen threw her arms around her husband and plopped into his lap. "Good," she said. "At least there's some fun in being a double agent. Otherwise it's all too virtuous and boring."

* * *

Cottle was in for Maya; after what Ellen Tigh had said before flitting off for more Cylon sex, Cally and Tyrol were both worried about her. He looked at her, and then at Isis, and then at Maya.

"You have to eat," he said. "Laura will have your ass and mine if you try to do anything stupid, young lady."

"I think they're going to kill her," Maya said, between sobs. The hysterical fits had hit right before Cottle's arrival, and for a good hour, mother and daughter had sobbed for their missing family member.

Isis had tired out and gone to sleep and Cottle had examined her while leaving Cally to try to calm Maya down. He looked even more grizzly than usual when he started to care for Maya.

"You and I need to talk," he finally said. "You two, scatter. Keep an eye out for people listening and keep your ears closed. Maya, look at me. Look at me. We have to talk about what happens next."

He'd shooed Tyrol and Cally off, and Cally in particular was curious. What did Cottle know that they didn't? He'd been thick as thieves with Roslin, lying about the cancer, but what would he and Maya know?

She couldn't help it; in a war, she had to listen. Had to know, even if it was none of her business.

"She bit a Boomer?" Cottle asked.

"Yes. I was so scared. What if they tried to do a test on the saliva? What if they torture Laura?" Maya was asking in low, urgent tones. "Her mother wasn't on the Pegasus, was she?"

Long silence. Cally continued to walk back and forth. Cottle coughed.

"You know, don't you?" he finally asked. "Smarter than I thought you were."

"I know Laura," Maya said. "Better than she thinks. Better than anyone thinks. And I love her -- and nobody else really does."

"Then you know that young lady's braver than all of us put together. We can trust her to keep her own secrets," Cottle said. "But you. What about you?"

"I'm scared for my daughter," Maya said.

"Smart girl," Cottle said. "But you understand crying won't bring her back, and won't be good for your daughter?"

"I know, but..."

"But she's got the instincts of a suicidal lemming on drugs when she's on a crusade, love and family be damned?" Cottle asked. "I know, girl. Those of us who love her -- and there are a few more than you -- know what you're going through."

Cally's breath was caught in her throat. She didn't know what had just happened, but something was very, very, VERY wrong.

The tent opened. Cottle was looking at Cally dryly, cigar butt in mouth. "Come on, kid," he said. "You take care of your friend."

He knew she'd listened. "Will it be okay?"

"Probably not," he said. "But I'm not going to say that to the young lady in that tent. She doesn't deserve it."

Cally, heart pounding, nodded and walked past Cottle into the tent. Maya was lying on her side on her bed, wearing -- Cally noticed for the first time -- one of Roslin's sweaters. It didn't fit her right.

"It smells like her," Maya said as Cally sat down, eyes swollen and puffy, lips cracked, face streaked with red tear tracks. "You know?"

"Yeah," Cally said. "Gods, I'm sorry, Maya."

"You were listening, huh?" Maya asked.

"A little bit," Cally said. "What's going on? Why are you so scared, Maya?"

Maya shook her head. "I'm scared that Laura's going to die," she said. "If she dies, everything is going to go wrong. That's why I can't sleep. I see things in my dreams. She dies and everything goes wrong. I'm afraid they're going to kill my baby."

And it all fell into place in Cally's head. Isis had bitten a Boomer, and Maya was afraid that they would do a genetic test on Isis. Which didn't make any sense unless Isis wasn't Maya's baby. And the question about the mother not being on Pegasus...

Isis was Helo and Boomer's baby.

And hiding the baby had been Roslin's idea, a secret she'd forced Cottle to keep. Hell, Maya hadn't known -- Cally was pretty sure that no one else did, either. Not Adama, not Lee, not anyone.

But if the Cylons found out...

"They won't kill your baby," Cally said.

Everyone else, probably. But not Athena's baby. The half-toaster baby Cally had cuddled to sleep, who she wanted her son to be like a little. That baby would live.

"No, probably not," Maya said drowsily. "Cottle gave me a sedative. I'm kind of sleepy."

"Get some sleep," Cally said, sick at heart. She wasn't going to be doing any tonight, that was for sure. "I'm sure it'll be okay in the morning."

* * *

Things were most definitely not going well.

"We have to free her," Baltar said. "There's no evidence, and given public sentiment, a mere show trial won't calm matters. If you attempt to execute her, there will be a riot. If you assassinate her, the human race will kill itself to prove her point. Every day she stays here, she further subverts any Colonials who are sympathetic to the Cylon. Let Roslin go home to her family."

D'Anna was pacing up and down, and Six was pouting angrily in Baltar's direction. Sharon was scratching her arm where the brat had bitten her, a contemplative expression on her face.

Baltar wanted to knock off, find one of the makeshift bars this pesthole harbored, and drink himself into oblivion. That not being an option, he wanted Roslin off Colonial One.

It was so clearly hers. She should be running the show, making orders, facing down Cylons with that indomitable, slightly mad spirit of hers. Every day she was near him, even the Cylon, who hated her, could see how much better she was than Baltar.

Even Six.

He wasn't going to let her take everything. He'd rather send her home now, even if it was a loss for the Cylon, than be the real loser of the day.

"Just let her go?" D'Anna finally asked.

"Yes," Baltar said. "Say that we've found insufficient evidence for treason at this time. Show our mercy and justice at this point."

"And get big, scary Roslin away from you, I suppose," D'Anna added. "Could you stop scratching that, Sharon?"

"No. It's itchy," Sharon said. "There was something about the kid."

"Yeah, it bit you. Maybe it was rabid," D'Anna said, turning back to Baltar. "What is it with you and that woman?"

"I don't trust her. I think every day she stays here, she further develops plans and gains intelligence that will give her the advantage," Baltar said. "She makes me very nervous, ladies."

"No, we missed that," Six said. "Oh, wait, darling, no, I hadn't."

"Are we going to have this argument? Over that woman?" Baltar asked.

"You're the one who wants her to run free," Six said. "For frak's sake, Gaius."

Sharon shrugged. "I think he's right," she said. "We're not going to get anything out of Roslin and she's a popular hero. It was a bad plan overall, so let's cut our losses and get the bad wolf out of our midst."

Baltar made a small moue in Sharon's general direction. "Thank you," he said.

"Don't thank me," Sharon said. "It's not my fault you're right this time. I wish you weren't and we could just hang the baby-killer."

Baltar rolled his eyes. "I'm glad to know that everyone feels so kindly about me," he said. "I'll go release the prisoner, then."

"Yeah, you do that," D'Anna said. "Wouldn't want to interrupt your little daily visits, would we, Baltar?"

Baltar left without comment. Honestly, some things just weren't worth retorting to, not with Cylons.

* * *

"You're free, Miss Roslin," Baltar said, unlocking the door. "We found no compelling evidence of treason or murder."

He was in a bad mood, and his beard was starting to be distracting, but the door was open. Laura turned over and regarded her old enemy passively.

"What, you expect me to believe the Cylons are just going to let me go?" she asked.

"No martyrdom today, Laura Roslin," Baltar said, chopping each syllable into a precise sound. "Sorry. I know you were hoping for a messy death to bring the people together and fulfill your ridiculous prophecy, but you have to keep living. And having sex with a beautiful woman."

"Trouble with the dream girl, Mister President?" Laura asked, stretching and getting to her feet. "Usually your ultra-civilized barbs are less obviously bitter."

"Oh, how I'll miss you," Baltar replied. "The cool smirking in particular."

Roslin did smirk, then, smoothing down her rat's-nest head of hair and adjusting her clothing. "I wish you all the joy of the Colonial presidency, Doctor," she said. "Fun, isn't it? So much more fun than going home to a girlfriend, a daughter, and a school. I envy you. Really."

Baltar's sneer was distinctly sour; it was apparent that the impending romantic reunion had knocked a good deal of vim and vigor back into Roslin. It really wasn't fair; even without the presidency, Laura Roslin had power, influence, and made Baltar look like a babbling idiot.

"Don't think this is over," he said, realizing as he said it that it was the worst kind of empty threat.

"Dr. Baltar, I'd never be foolish enough to believe this is over until one of us is dead," Laura said, leaning against the doorway. "Until then."

"Yes, rather," Baltar said, a bit light-headed. He watched her leave the ship that seemed to belong to her, even now, even when she had no right with it, and it was only after he saw a bedraggled little figure from the port viewer that he finally dared spit behind her.

All the joy of the Colonial presidency indeed.

* * *

Maya was singing. Loud enough that everyone in the neighborhood could hear her, and most everyone's hearts were breaking for the poor woman, singing the old children's song over and over and over.

Cally hadn't slept. Instead she'd stayed in bed, curled up protectively. She was watching her son sleep, eyes aching and stomach churning.

"Row, row, row your boat," Maya sang, another endless verse to the dirge. In fact, Cally had heard more cheerful songs at funerals. "Gently down the stream..."

Another woman's voice joined in. "Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream."

Cally waited. Maya sang back the last two verses as the two women continued their round.

 _It's Athena's kid, it's Athena and Helo's kid, and they're pretending she's theirs_ Cally's thoughts chanted at her.

Everyone else would be coming out of their tents, she knew. They'd be happy that Laura Roslin had been released from jail, that the lovers were united.

Even Cally, who hated Laura Roslin a lot at the moment, was glad about that.

And now -- that was the sound of Isis...poor stolen Isis...realizing who was singing.

And that woke up Cally's son, who had his father's eyes and his grandmother's smile. He started to fuss and Cally picked him up, feeling sick and guilty and angry. Extremely angry.

How could they do this to everyone? Didn't Roslin have any idea what the toasters would do if they found out Boomer's baby was hidden? And what could Cally do, yell it out for everyone? Even if anyone believed her, she'd be dead.

No, now Cally was in on a secret that could kill her and she couldn't tell anyone. Not Galen, not Maya, not anyone.

And the part where she'd chosen to listen made it even worse. If she'd only kept her ears shut like a good soldier, she wouldn't be thinking about how there was a baby not a hundred yards from her own that Cally'd gladly kill...if she thought it would work.

"Are you all right?" Galen asked, poking his head in the tent. "We're going to have a party, you know. Everyone's giving up all their stashes to the cause and someone found a guitar."

"I know," Cally said. "I just have to feed him and then I'll be out there."

"Don't be too long. I'm sure Maya and Roslin both want to see you," Galen said with a smile. "Smile, Cally Jane. It's a good day."

He left. Her hands shook as she lifted the baby, his familiar weight in her arms almost comforting.

"What are we going to do, huh?" Cally whispered to her son. "What are we going to do? Are we going to cry, or are we going to be brave?"

The baby mewed, and Cally lifted her shirt, letting him latch on as she thought her own thoughts, breathing in and out slowly as her son nursed.

"I hope that's not the beginnings of a tooth I feel," she warned him. "Because if it is, you're on your own."

He slurped noisily, and Cally cuddled him closer.

"Okay, not really," she admitted. "None of us are anymore, even when we don't like it. So you just teeth if you have to, and I'll accept it."

Cally's son was a wise baby; he continued to nurse and look adorable, so even the little ache that presaged teething seemed less horrible.

Besides, she could hear Jammer singing. No way she was going to sit alone in her tent and sulk -- no matter how pissed she was -- when she could maybe get Jammer and Galen and the rest of the deck folks to sing the engineer song.

"See, kiddo?" Cally said to her son, touching his soft little head with a finger. "It's going to take more than that to make us stop hoping, huh? Huh?"

"Caaaaaallllllyyyyy!" Galen called. "You have guests. Get out here before I accuse you of malingering, woman!"

"I'm coming!" Cally said, laughing. She'd be okay after all; she had to be. "Tell everyone to keep their clothes on, I'm coming."


End file.
